


In Death

by danceofthecherryblossoms



Series: OC/SI Twin Series [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 15:24:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16161632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceofthecherryblossoms/pseuds/danceofthecherryblossoms
Summary: "Like life, this story of mine will be a bloody mess, because the story I am about to tell you is about my life." SI/OC as Harry's twin.





	1. one

Everything I know about my life can be summed up into five things. These five things are things I know as a fact, as an undeniable truth, and cannot and will not change in my life. 

 

One, my brother and I will always have each other, no matter what.

 

Two, I am not loved by my aunt and uncle, if anything they resent my existence.

 

Three, if I do not do anything for myself no one else will.

 

Four, no matter what I do I cannot make everyone happy.

 

Five, no matter what happens life will continue to go on, with or without me.

 

These five things make up the foundation of who I am.

 

Who am I? I never did introduce myself did I? I'm Helena, Helena Lily Potter, and yes as in that Potter.

 

I can't tell you about my birth. I don't remember it. I cannot tell you about most of my infant years, I don't remember much. All I remember is chilling laughter and my mother's pleas. I hear the monster who took my parents away from me try to take my brother away from me too. I see that acid green light. Then I feel the worst pain imaginable as the backlash of the extraordinary magic that spared my brothers life washed over me. I feel the pain of a lifetime of memories fill my head. I feel what it means to be reborn. And let me tell you it is nothing like you can imagine.

 

Everything has a price. What makes you think that being reborn, of gaining memories of a past life doesn't. My parents are dead, my brother will forever be marked by a monster's attempt to murder him and I will always be torn between now and what used to be.

 

I can't say I don't think about my past life. I do, and sometimes it hurts. I have had a lot of time, nine years now, to get over myself and move past the urge to wish I was back in that life. That doesn't mean that my past life doesn't still affect me because it does. It has shaped me, made me stronger and made me aware of life and death and the inbetween. It made me surprisingly well adjusted. I know that life moves on and that makes it all the more important because I know that I want to go to my death having lived the very best life I could. To make sure that those I care about live the very best life they can.

 

The fact that the life I live now used to be a book series, well, mostly used to be a book series, seems pretty unimportant compared to everything else. I mean being reborn in general kind makes it hard for the little things to really freak you out.

 

That, and when I am curled up with my brother in the room that would have once been my cousin’s spare, it's hard to ever think of him as a book character. He's breathing and existing right beside me and I can't help but love him. I can't help but love this life simply because it's mine. Life is something I remember all too clearly can be taken away suddenly. So, why would I spend this second chance freaking out about what can't change?

 

I am not sure where I am going with this. Or if I started telling you this story the right way. I probably messed this beginning all up, but I guess that's a bit like life, it doesn't start pretty. It's a bloody mess honestly.

 

Like life, this story of mine will be a bloody mess, because the story I am about to tell you is about my life.

 

Crap, why is so hard to write beginnings? Even the beginning of your own story. You'd think that would make it easy. It doesn't.

 

Let me try again.

 

The night when my brother and I became orphans, my brother got a scar and I got the memories of my past life. This is how this story starts. In death and surviving past it.

 


	2. two

Okay, let’s get one thing straight. The elders of the Dursley-Evans household are abusive. They may not beat us, but they have swung at us a few times and they do neglect us. This is still abusive behavior, and I won't let anyone say otherwise. I absolutely hate my aunt and uncle. Look, I can almost understand why they treat my brother and I like I do. To be clear I think they should burn in hell for what they do to us, but I can see how they justify it to themselves. What I can't understand is why they treat their son the way they do. It sucks to realize love can hurt just as much as hate. My aunt and uncle abuse their own son, just in the opposite way they do my brother and I. Some people are just not fit to be good parents, or even people for that matter. Whoever thought the Dursley's would be good guardians was high on their own bullshit.  

 

Look, I don’t want to hate on a man I don’t really know. Sure I read the books and got a good feel for Dumbledore's character but he was just a character at the time. Yeah he may have been a character I both loved and hated in equal measure but I guess when I found myself living this new life I hoped for something more in him. Which is wrong because I am putting expectations on someone I don’t know but I can’t help it. I can’t help that part of me hates him more than anything for putting me and my brother in this home and then never checking in on us. (I hate him because I know what he is trying to shape my brother to be; a martyr). I hate that I have become someone that hates so much. I hate this person that all this hate has made. 

 

I want to be better, but everything in my life to this point has made it hard. I love my brother more than anything. He is all the good in my life. I read the books in my past life, I grew up with them so I feel like I knew the story really well. Even if time has dulled those memories some. I know at least the kind of future that is in store for Harry, and I hate it. I hate it more than anything. So it's hard to be a good person because my goals and hope for the future lay in hate. Love too, but love can hurt just as much as hate. 

 

I want to keep my brother safe and happy. I want my brother to be the kind of person who would choose to live for those he cares about, not die for them. I don't care if doing so changes everything. All I care about is my brother. This is the kind of person I am. 

 

I almost hate myself because I am ready to damn everyone for my brother, for my happiness. I can't though, because I know I still can change. I hope I still can change. 

 

Hogwarts gives me hope, knowing it's in my future, because I hope that despite everything that I already hate about that place it will give me the chance to change. To become someone who doesn't hate so easily. 

 

The reason I am telling you this is because my brother and I will be eleven soon. We will be receiving our letters soon. I hope anyway. 

 

I know that I have magic. My accidental magic is always noticeable. Harry's could easily be explained away, well mostly. Mine however tends to get explosive. I don't have control of my magic, I am no Tom Riddle, but it does follow my intent a little. 

 

Like the one time my uncle made me burn myself when I was baking Dudley’s birthday cake a few years ago. I will say that he didn't mean for me to burn myself but he did intend to scare me. I was pulling out a pan from the oven when he made me jump, and I burnt my arm pretty bad. My dear uncle didn't notice at first and laughed. It made me angry, and I had thought he wouldn't have been laughing if he felt my pain. My magic must have reacted because next thing I know my uncle had painful boils up his arm in the exact place I was burnt. I hadn't even thought about hurting my uncle yet my magic did anyway. Most of the incidents I had of accidental magic follow this same pattern. 

 

(When I really think about it, I worry about what this says about me, about what kind of person I am becoming).

 

Even though I know magic is real and that Harry and I will be soon apart of that world of magic, I worry. I worry about getting my letter because despite knowing I have magic nothing else in my life has pointed to Hogwarts being real. I want it to be real so bad. I want the chance to be more than this!

For Dudley's birthday, Harry and I were taken to the zoo with Dudley and his best friend. My aunt and uncle were irritated that we had to come and ‘spoil Dudley's special day with our freakishness’ and Dudley was angry, oh so angry we were there. I planned to rub it in his face later because I'm petty like that.

 

I felt sorry for Miss Figg who couldn't look after us because she broke her leg, but I was excited to go to the zoo. My brother was too, though we did our best not to look it. The car ride to the zoo was painful as I had to sit on the floor and Dudley made sure to kick me as much as he could the whole ride there. Harry mentioned a dream about flying motorcycles and I spent the rest of the trip imaging having one of my own. 

 

Harry and I did our best to both enjoy the zoo, and to stay out of Dudley's and Piers’ way. We even got our own ice pops before we went in because the Dursley elders didn't want to stand out. Lunch was even better because Harry and I each got our own meal, and we got to share a desert. Sure it was because Dudley didn't want it but it was still yummy. The trip got even better after lunch where I particularly enjoyed watching the big cats. I love cats and I can't wait until I can own one. 

 

Most of the trip went okay from that point on. Sure, Harry had his most explosive incident of accidental magic yet. Let me tell you, watching Dudley get stuck inside the snake enclosure was so worth the punishment later. It helped that I honestly forgot about the whole thing until after it happened. So I got to enjoy it as it was happening. Both Harry and I were amused enough by that event that our punishment seemed to pass by rather quickly. Our punishment ended about a week before our birthdays. 

 

(I was born just before midnight on the thirtieth while Harry was born about twenty minutes after midnight on the thirty-first).  

 

Our dear auntie woke us up early, told us to be quick in the shower as she shoved the basket of cheap toiletries in my arms before prancing downstairs to start her daily routine of being a nosy housewife. To be quick Harry and I showered together, though I know that we are starting to get too old to bathe together. Something to worry about later I guess. From there we went downstairs where we were ordered to make breakfast. Uncle dearest and his clone came and sat at the table just as Harry finished setting it and I finished with the last of the food. We were then given a piece of toast and a spoonful of eggs that we were to eat at the counter, as we were not allowed to sit with their so called perfect family. Harry was starting on the dishes when the sound of the letter flap silenced the already quiet kitchen. 

 

“Go get the mail girl.” Uncle shitface said, making the word girl sound as if it was as disgusting as dog shit on your shoe. 

 

I held myself back from telling him to make me. I wouldn't want to give him an invitation to get in my personal space. My uncle is the kind of person who likes to get in your face when he yells at you, probably to use all his excessive size as a intimidation factor. I do however flip him off once he can't see me, I never said I was a mature person. I took my time walking to the pile of letters sitting in front of the door. I bent down in front of the pile, my eyes catching on two thick brown envelopes mixed in with the normal crisp white envelopes and colorful junk mail. 

 

Our letter arrived. I couldn't help but let put a relieved breath. Hogwarts was real! Thank god, I would die if I was stuck in this hateful existence until I was an adult. 

 

I was shaken from my thoughts when my uncle made a nasty comment about how long I was taking. Quickly I pulled the letters from pile and slipped them into my waistband and covered them with my shirt. Then I picked up the rest of the mail and looked through it with a dramatic flair as I walk back to the kitchen. 

 

“How boring, Aunt Marge sends her love Uncle V.” I drawled, and lazily looked up from the postcard in my hand. 

 

Uncle Vernon reached over and ripped the mail from my hands, his lips pulling back into a grimace as he said, “Shut your mouth brat. You two finish the dishes and get out of my house for the rest of the day.” 

 

I waited until my back was turned before smirking victoriously. Perfect, I just have to drag Harry to the public library and then we can open our letters where no so called family can take them from us. 

 

“Whatever you are planning, I want in.” Harry said quietly as I stepped next to him and took over washing while he grabbed a towel and started drying. 

 

“Of course.” I responded. “I would never leave you out of it, brother mine.”

 

“Don’t be creepy Helena.” 


End file.
